


Baby's One Wish

by CaptainAmelia22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dreams, Multi, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/CaptainAmelia22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her dreams are more colorful than any American made Chevrolet has ever had before and when she decides she wants to walk under the sun on two legs she knows just who to go to to make a deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby's One Wish

“Sammy, ever wonder what Baby would be like if she were human?”

In retrospect, the Winchester’s should have known better than to voice passing thoughts like that. But that didn’t stop Dean from muttering about the Impala when he fell half asleep across the mattress of the seedy Nebraska motel they were crashed in. They’d been going non-stop for three days, hunting demons and trying to stay one step ahead of Crowley and Dean was bushed. 

Sam glanced up at his brother’s voice and started to open his mouth to say No, I’ve never wondered what Dad’s Impala would be like if it were alive because it’s a car and that will never happen, when there was a faint rumble and a horn, that sounded eerily like the Impala’s, sounded from the parking lot. 

“Son of a bitch!” swore Dean as he rolled off the sagging mattress he’d collapsed on. “I swear to God if Cas has landed on the hood again I’ll string him up by his backwards tie myself!” The motel door slammed closed behind him as he rushed out of the room towards the parking lot. 

Sam only rolled his eyes and grabbed his revolver before following his older brother out of their dump of a motel room. As he ran across the tarmac towards where they’d parked the Impala his nose twitched at the faint smell of sulfur and feathers rolling through the air. 

“Demons?” he breathed as his hand tightened around his silver flask of holy water in his pocket. “Dean!” he bellowed as he turned the corner of the motel. “Dean something’s wrong! I think-holy shit!”

He skidded to a halt on the slick tarmac and simply stared with his mouth agape at the sight before him. Dean stood with his back to his younger brother, his hands on his head and Sam could hear him mutter occasionally, “Son of a bitch!” as he stared at the spot their black Impala had taken up in the mostly empty parking lot. 

Finally Sam found his voice and he choked out, “Dean? Where’s the car?” 

His brother glanced over his shoulder and Sam shivered at the horror in his eyes. “Dean…”

“Baby,” Dean groaned as he stepped aside so Sam could see the mostly vacant parking spot. 

The mostly vacant parking spot which had been the temporary home of their Dad’s ’67 Chevy Impala was now the home of a very naked, very slender, black haired girl. She raised bewildered silver eyes to the two brothers and said in a slightly hoarse voice, “Can I have pie? I’ve always wanted to try pie.” 

“Son of a bitch.” 

**

They did the only things they could think to do. They brought the girl (the Impala) into their hotel room and then they called Bobby and prayed to Cas. 

Sam did the calling. Dean did the praying. The Impala ate Dean’s last slice of blueberry pie.

“She’s eating my pie,” Dean grumbled as he wandered the room with his bottle of Jack. Sam glanced at the black haired girl bouncing on the mattress of his bed, her cheeks stuffed with pie and tried to not think of the similarities she had to his brother. 

She’d turned on the bedside radio the moment they’d entered the room and found the only classic rock station functioning this side of the Missouri. She was now wearing one of his flannel shirts and most of Dean’s pie. 

“Give her a break Dean,” he muttered as he tried dialing another of Bobby’s numbers. They hadn’t reached him in Sioux Falls the first time. “She’s…” he sighed as the phone rang and rang. “She’s probably hungry.” 

Before either could respond the girl piped up, “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve rested? You boys have been going pedal to the metal for days now. I was about to have a mental breakdown.” She laughed at that, her eyes sparkling like chrome plated bumpers in Florida sunlight and Dean froze mid-stride to stare at her. 

“I’m going to go get a drink. Alone,” he choked as he grabbed his gun and his keys. He didn’t see the girl roll her eyes or Sam start to say something. He just rushed across the room and threw open the door. Before leaving though, he turned back to his brother and pointed a finger at first him and then the bizarre meat-suit of his Baby. “Watch her. Don’t let her eat anymore pie.” The door slammed behind him as he left. 

Once Dean was gone Sam turned bewildered eyes to the girl and said, “Uh, sorry about that. He’s…” 

“He’s just as confused as we are,” said the girl as she ran her finger along the edge of her plate, wiping up the rest of the blueberry sauce that had leaked out of the pie. “Do you think your angel will come? I like him. He’s funny.” She smiled her sunshiney smile once again and Sam felt his heart stutter in his chest as she sucked the sauce off of her finger. 

“I, uh, don’t know Ba-Im-uh, what should I call you?” he asked as his cheeks warmed. 

The girl bounced on the mattress, her brow crinkled into a tiny frown and she hummed that Kansas song under her breath. “Hmm,” she murmured. “Your Mom always called me ‘The Second Wife.’ I always liked that name.” She smiled and then yawned, her eyes fluttering sleepily. “But maybe for Dean’s sake we just stick with Baby.” 

Sam’s lips twitched at the nickname and he shook his head as the girl collapsed against Dean’s pillow. “All right…Baby. That will work. Just get some sleep,” he said as he pulled the scratchy sheets over her. 

She smiled gently at him and patted his hand, “Thanks Sammy. I’m sorry this happened to you boys.” 

Sam hesitated and then sat on the edge of the bed beside their car. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll get this figured out as soon as possible okay?” 

Her silver eyes closed as she settled deeper against Dean’s pillow. “Okay Sammy. Just promise me that when I do get back to normal that you won’t let Bobby ride in my backseat anymore. The last time he did I couldn’t get the smell of burritos and beer out of my leather for days.” 

Sam snorted and tucked the blankets around her even tighter. “Yeah, okay, uh Baby. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Thanks Sammy,” she murmured. Within moments she was asleep. Sam stood and stared at the sleeping form of their Dad’s now-human car for a while, a small smile on his lips as she snored and he nearly jumped out of his skin the moment his cell started ringing from his pocket. 

“Yeah, this is Sam-Bobby!” Sam’s eyes closed in relief at the sound of their mentor’s voice. 

“What are you doing, you idjit, calling six of my phones?” growled Bobby’s voice through the speaker of Sam’s phone. “Can’t you boys get a hint?!” 

“Uh,” Sam said slowly, his eyes settling on their sleeping guest. “We have a problem Bobby.” 

“Kinda figured, since you called me six times. Idjits. So what is it this time? Shape-shifter? Werewolf? Vengeful spirit?” 

“Car?” Sam said weakly as he collapsed in the only motel chair and pulled his laptop closer to him. 

Silence. Then, “Car?! What the hell are you talking about, boy?” 

Sam’s fingers tapped on the laptop’s keyboard as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and chin. “What would you say if I told you our Dad’s car is currently sleeping in our motel room?” he asked quietly as he studied the results his search had pulled up. 

“You idjit! Are you drunk?! Is this some sort of prank Dean put you up to?” 

Sam flinched at Bobby’s bellow and sighed. “Wish I was and that it was a prank. But seeing as how the human form of the Impala is currently drooling into Dean’s pillow then I think we have to look at our other options here Bobby.” 

A tense silence fell then and then Bobby said, marginally calmer, “You’re not kidding, are you boy?” 

“Uh, nope. So any idea what we’re dealing with here?” Sam’s eyes flew over the screen. “We smelled sulfur when we found her-“

“’Her’?!”

“Yeah. Seems our Dad’s car is a girl,” Sam murmured as he pulled up a link for “pathetic fallacy” and tried to not look at the girl again. “We just pulled into a motel here in North Platte and the next thing we know the Impala’s horn goes off and we’re stuck with a Chevy meat-suit.” 

“Well I’ll be damned,” choked Bobby. “Bet Dean loves that.” 

Sam laughed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah,” he said wearily. “What are the chances?”

“Slim to none, ya idjit. Balls!” 

**

Dean walked from the motel, The Pioneer’s Wheel, to the only bar in the one-horse town they were in, muttering furiously to himself. “Damn it, Cas, now would be a good time to show up, you bastard. I don’t know what’s going on but the fact that my car is eating my pie is making me a little nervous right now.” He glanced over his shoulder as he approached the Rum Shot and sighed at the empty road. “Come on Cas, I want my car back.” 

“Hello Dean.” 

“Son of a bitch, Cas!” shouted Dean as he pivoted on his heels to confront the trench coated angel standing under the dimly lit street lamp outside of the bar. “Where the hell have you been?” 

“Working,” the angel said, his eyes shadowed. “I came as soon as I could. What have you done with the vehicle?” 

Dean snorted. “Done? Me? I haven’t done anything! One moment the Impala’s parked and locked, nice and car-y, the next she’s bouncing on my bed in Sam’s shirt eating my pie! So I want to know what’s happened to her!” 

Castiel just glared at Dean, his eyes as shadowed and secretive as they’d always been. “I don’t know what’s happened to your vehicle Dean,” he said slowly as he walked a little ways past his human friend. 

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Figured as much. Well, would you mind coming back and talking to her? We’re lost and Bobby’s not picking up, so we could definitely use your help, any help.” Dean’s eyes begged Cas to come, to figure this out for them. Because he really had no idea what to do. 

Cas didn’t answer, simply placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder and with a faint flapping of wings they were back in the Winchester’s hotel room. 

Sam turned in his chair at the sound of their arrival and sighed in relief at the sight of their angel. “Cas,” he said softly, his brow wrinkling like it always did when Castiel arrived to help them. “You came.” 

“I did,” Cas said as he gazed dispassionately around their room. “Where is the vehicle?” 

Dean simply pointed at the bed, his head turned away in disgust and his eyes locked on the empty pie plate sitting on the kitchenette counter. “Ate my pie, damn it,” he grumbled as the angel approached the sleeping girl. 

“I do not understand,” Cas said as he placed his hand on the girl’s head. “This is not a vessel nor is it a vehicle.” 

His troubled eyes flashed from one brother to another and Sam frowned. “Not a vessel?! But she-it-is alive! How can that be?” He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his eyes wide as Cas turned once more to the girl. 

“She is human but her memories…” he paused and took a deep breath. “But her memories are distinctly car-like. She keeps dreaming of someone named John washing her rear fenders.” His lips twitched as the images smelling of leather, soap and John washed over him and he glanced at the Winchesters thoughtfully.

Who shifted uncomfortably at the mention of their father and his favorite past-time between hunts. 

“Now this is just wrong!” growled Dean as he began pacing. “I don’t need to know what my car is dreaming about! How can cars dream anyway?! It-she’s-It’s a car damn it! They’re inanimate objects!” 

Sam shifted and cleared his throat. Dean’s eyes flashed in his younger brother’s direction and he started shaking his head at the familiar look on Sam’s face. “Oh no! Ooooh no-don’t you say it Sammy! Don’t you dare, because if you do then I’m kicking you all out and walking to Bobby’s on my own!”

Sam sighed and glanced at Castiel who was still stroking the girl’s hair, a small smile on his face and his eyes vague and dreamy as he stared at the moldering moose’s head on the wall opposite of her bed. Sam cringed at the pleased look on the angel’s vessel’s face and tried to not think about what he was watching in the girl’s head. He shuddered at his own memories of the Impala; what would the actual car be dreaming about? He sighed as he turned back to his brother. 

“Dean,” he said carefully, his hands raised in a placating gesture as his brother shook his head stubbornly. “Dean, think about it. Think about all the stuff that car’s been through. Think of all we’ve done in it-her! Think about how much you’ve put into making sure she runs! Is it any wonder this is happening? I mean, let’s face it,” he finished with a soft laugh as he ran his fingers once more through his hair. “It’s not like anything in our lives is remotely normal.” 

“But our car’s alive Sam. Not just running, alive. That is spooky. No, that’s not just spooky, that’s wrong!” Dean’s voice was ragged as his hands once more rested on the top of his head. “This is so not awesome,” he muttered as Cas stirred finally and removed his head from the girl’s hair. 

“I believe I know who has done this,” he said slowly, his brow furrowed. “But I am not sure. I will return.” 

Both boys sighed in resignation as the angel vanished with a faint rustle of wings and Sam sagged once more in his chair. Dean simply stared at the spot where their angel had stood and tried to keep from panicking. “What do we do now Sammy?” he asked wearily as he moved towards the bottle of Jack he’d been drinking from earlier. 

Sam glanced at him and tried to ignore the sight of his brother pouring a healthy dose of whiskey into a plastic motel glass and shrugged. “We get some sleep, I guess. It’s been days since you’ve actually slept and we might as well take advantage of this. Bobby will be here in the morning to help us figure this out. And well…who knows when Cas will be back.” 

Dean tossed back a third glass of whiskey and then shot a furious glare at the offending Impala sleeping in his bed. “I’m not sleeping in that bed with her-it-whatever,” he growled as he jerked out of his coat and button up shirt. 

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch or something,” he said as he turned back to his computer. 

Glancing over his shoulder he watched as Dean fell into the other bed with his pants, shoes and shirt still on; he cradled his revolver and Ruby’s knife while a container of salt and a flask of holy water sat on the bedside table. Sam rolled his eyes and tried to not smile. They’d done all of the tests on the girl; she was human. Or something pretty damn close to human. 

“Jerk,” he grumbled under his breath as he took a sip of water. 

“Bitch,” growled Dean from the bed. 

**

Sam’s nose twitched as the Impala’s warm scent inundated his nose and he thought idly to himself, still mostly asleep, Must have stopped on the side of the road to get some shut-eye. Our backs are going to kill us in the morning. 

Then something small and delicate moved in his arms and hair smelling of leather, motor oil and the vanilla scented air freshener they’d hung over the rearview mirror after Dean’s Taco Pete’s run, brushed against his face and his eyes snapped open to gaze into the silver eyes of their humanized Impala. 

“Baby!” he gasped in surprise as she stroked his cheek. “What are you doing here?” His eyes darted around and he realized he was no longer in his chair in front of his computer. He was in the bed. Beside their Dad’s car. He started to sit up but her finger’s tightened in his shirt and he smacked back into the pillow beside hers. “Baby,” he said slowly, his eyes wide with horror as she leaned closer to him, her eyes intent on his lips. “What are you doing?” 

“You know,” she said thoughtfully as her fingers trailed over his cheek to brush his lips. “You’re a lot like John, at least, the John who first owned me. I was always so envious of Mary because she got to hold him when all I could do was wait for him to open my hood or run his hands over my chrome. It was so hard to sit there silently and watch them. To watch you all.” She sighed and leaned ever closer to Sam who was staring at her avidly, his mind stunned at her words. “Can I kiss you Sam Winchester?” she asked curiously, her fingers trailing over his jaw now. “I’ve always wondered what kissing is like.” 

“Uh,” Sam choked, his body starting to respond to her touch. “Uh, Baby, I don’t think that’s a good id-“ His words were cut off by her lips on his and he gasped as her fingers fisted in his hair. 

Suddenly the clock radio went off, blasting “My Heart Will Go On,” and Sam yanked himself free of her lips to sit up and look frantically around the room. 

His eyes, already wide, flew even wider at the sight of Dean and Bobby standing beside the bed, the latter bearing a Wal-Mart bag of clothes and the former bearing a new bottle of whiskey and a bag of Runza’s breakfast sandwiches. 

“Having fun, Sammy?” growled his brother, his finger reaching out to snap off the radio. Bobby could do nothing but stare at the unflustered black haired girl sitting next to Sam. 

“Hi Bobby,” she said brightly. “Please tell me you’re not still eating those disgusting gas-station burritos again. The boys won’t say anything but they don’t exactly agree with you anymore.” 

Before any of the men could respond she slid out of bed and danced past them on the way to the bathroom. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she leaned against the doorframe. “I have to have an oil-change.” She laughed cheekily at her joke and closed the door with a snap. 

Sam’s lips twitched in a smile which he quickly stifled at Dean’s glare. “What?” he grumbled as he slid out of bed as well. “You have to admit that’s pretty funny.” 

“Yeah, so funny I’m busting my ribs,” Dean growled as he cracked the seal on his bottle of whiskey. 

Sam stretched, his eyes on the bathroom door and he almost missed Bobby saying, “You’re sure she’s the real deal? You ran all of the tests on her?”

Dean shot a glare at his moon-eyed brother who jumped and cleared his throat. “Wha-Oh yeah. We tested her with the knife, holy water, silver, the whole regimen. Nothing supernatural whatsoever. Besides, the you know, fact that she’s uh…” 

“A car. In a meat-suit,” snapped Dean. 

Bobby sighed and scratched his head through his trucker cap. “Okay, well I hit the books before hitting the road and I couldn’t find anything about this there. I’ve certainly never dealt with anything like this in the past. I was kind of hoping you boys would have found something or that your precious angel had helped.” 

Dean and Sam glanced at each other but before they could tell Bobby about Cas’s quick visit the bathroom door opened and their car said, “Are those clothes Bobby?”

All three men jumped and turned to stare at her; she was smiling brightly, the sleeves of Sam’s shirt pushed up past her elbows and her hair tied back with a rubber band. Bobby only stared at her and thrust the bag of clothes in her direction. “Hope they fit sweetheart,” he blurted as she took it from him with a quiet thank you. “This idjit wasn’t much help,” he growled as he nudged his thumb in Dean’s direction. 

She smiled at both of them and shrugged, which made Sam’s shirt slip over her shoulder; all of the men coughed or shifted at the sight of her pale skin and she said, oblivious to their discomfiture, “That’s okay Bobby. I wouldn’t be much help in that matter either. Only thing I’ve ever worn in the past was road dust, wax and bug juice.” She turned back to the bathroom and closed the door once more, a small smile on her lips.

Bobby exhaled at the loud click and turned to back to the boys he considered his sons. “Okay, we need to change her back and fast,” he said quietly. “Can’t believe you idjits have a horny teenager for a car.” He snorted and rubbed his beard. “Actually,” he muttered. “I sort of can. All right, let’s hit the books. No sense in waiting for your angel to figure this out and by the looks of the things she’s not just going to zap back into her normal form. Balls! Never thought I’d see the day. It’s downright unnatural.” 

**

Cas had found him. Finally. He could not believe this was who was behind the Winchester car’s sudden humanity. But then again it was…

“Balthazar.” 

His troublesome brother turned, a smarmy smile on his face as he said, “Castiel! Brother, whatever may I do for you?” 

“Give the Winchester’s their vehicle back, Balthazar,” Cas growled as he approached his brother lounging in the Queen of England’s throne with his legs thrown over the arm rest and his fingers twirling a pagan god’s staff. “I know it was you who transformed the car into a human.” 

“Oh that lovely piece of sixties muscle? Quite the character, the little minx, I so enjoy talking to her whenever I stop by your muses. I’ve never experienced such vivid imagery from a V8; then again, nothing those mewling giant’s own is quite up to par with normal mortals belongings,” Balthazar purred as he played with the Staff of Ra. 

Cas did not respond, only stared at his brother, a thunderous scowl on his face. Balthazar glanced at him and chuckled. “It’s thrown them for quite a loop, hasn’t it little brother,” he said as he straightened to sit upright in the throne. “I wonder how long it will take them before they figure out what to do with their precious Baby.”

“There is nothing they can do,” Cas snapped as he moved closer to the dais the throne sat on. “There is no spell, no incantation, they can use to transform that vehicle back to its rightful form.” 

“Her, brother. Her rightful form,” Balthazar said as he tapped Cas’s nose with the Staff. “We must consider the poor girl’s sexual orientation in this whole shebang, after-all.” 

Cas pushed the offensive Staff away and grabbed a fistful of Balthazar’s foppish grey shirt. “What did you do to the car, Balthazar?” he hissed as he dragged his older brother forward. 

“I simply granted her her greatest wish, brother,” Balthazar said from behind Cas, who sighed and dropped his now empty hand. As he turned slowly to face the most troublesome of God’s children, Balthazar continued, “She expressed her frustrations to me the last time I dropped in to have a chat with your annoying humans and I decided that it was time she experienced what she so greatly desired.” He smiled and polished the Staff with his coat sleeve. 

Cas, his worst fears realized, ground out, “You granted a vehicle a wish? How.” 

Balthazar waved his hand airily and swung the Staff once more. “Oh it was quite simple really; I’m not quite sure how, but that lovely little bit of 1960’s American Muscle Heritage has quite the mind on her. Perhaps it was the ‘supernatural’ things she has experienced or maybe it is simply that she is a special being belonging to some of the more special ed apes on the face of this planet.” He chuckled at Cas’s widening eyes and he shrugged. “Whatever, I simply placed my hand on her hood and suddenly a lovely slip of a thing stood before me asking for pie! It was quite magnificent really. I should do it again…” 

He rubbed his chin and made to leave but Cas caught him by the shoulder. “Balthazar,” he snapped. “You have to turn the car back to its natural form. You are disrupting the order of things. This is not what our Father would have wanted! We need the Winchester’s in this War and the Winchester’s need that vehicle.” 

Balthazar sighed and shoved Cas’s hand off with the tip of the Staff. “Brother, brother,” he tsked as he moved once more about the throne room of Buckingham Palace. “Don’t get your feathers all in a knot. She’ll return to them. Eventually. I gave her twenty-four hours to taste all that humanity has to offer. Just twenty-four, mind you, any more than that and she would be stuck in limbo and your precious slaughterer’s would lose their beloved father’s car forever. So twenty-four it is and no less. So tell those boys to enjoy their time with the lovely little lady for as long as possible.” He smiled and clapped Cas’s cheek gently before vanishing, leaving behind the faint smell of sulfur and crow’s feathers. 

Cas stared at the now empty dais and sighed. It was just as he had feared. The Winchester’s vehicle was human, for a few hours at least and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

“Dean will not be pleased,” he muttered as he once more prepared to return to his charges. 

Then, with a faint fluttering of wings, he was gone.

**

Dean was cleaning his guns. Obsessively. Not that Baby minded. She’d always enjoyed an angry Dean. It meant he’d drive her hard and fast over country roads with hard metal music blaring from her speakers. That was her favorite Dean. 

She sat on the kitchenette counter in her Wal-Mart jeans and black AC/DC t-shirt and watched him, her silver eyes sparkling with dark humor as Dean glared at her and cleaned his favorite pistol over-and-over. 

“You know, you don’t scare me,” she said in the silence, making both Sam and Bobby jump. “I’ve known you for almost thirty years Dean; you’ve sat in my front seat more times than you can even count and I’ve sung Blondie songs with you or listened to NPR’s Garrison Keillor with you every Sunday morning when you let Sammy sleep in. I know you better than you know yourself.” 

Dean’s glare darkened and he pointed the barrel of his Colt M19 in her direction, snarling, “You do not get to speak to me, sweetheart. I don’t want to hear a peep from your mouth, got it?”

She only sighed and rested her chin in her hands. “You’re such a grouch when you don’t get enough sleep,” she muttered. 

“Dean,” Sam said slowly, his brow furrowed as he glanced from his stiff necked brother to the girl sitting on the counter. “Maybe you should go for a walk.” 

“No,” snapped Dean as the final piece of his gun clicked into place. “I’m staying here until Cas shows up. Who knows what that thing is going to do.” 

“That thing,” Sam said quietly. “Is our car. You can at least be a little patient with her. She’s probably just as freaked as we are.” 

His brother opened his mouth to respond but Baby hopped down from the counter and wandered over to clap her hands on both of their shoulders. “Actually,” she said with a cheeky grin. “I’m not that freaked.” 

Then she moved over to the box of leftover pizza the boys had ordered for lunch. Bobby frowned as he watched her pull a piece of cold cheese and anchovy pizza out of the box and asked, his voice gruff, “What do you mean, you’re not freaked?” 

She glanced at him, her cheeks stuffed and she shrugged. “Ish no’ ‘at mush o’ a ‘prise,” she mumbled through her mouthful. At their blank stares she sighed and picked up Sam’s abandoned mostly-full bottle of beer and swigged; they all watched as she swallowed several mouthfuls, their eyes wide and when she lowered the now empty bottle Dean actually smiled in pride. “Well,” she said with a dainty belch from behind her hand. “I’ve been spending the past year and a half thinking about what it would be like to be human. It was kind of my only way to keep from going crazy under that tarp in Lisa’s garage,” she said with a baleful glare in Dean’s direction who squirmed guiltily. “So when he came with an offer, I decided now was the time to take him up on it. I’ve tried to ignore him in the past, of course, seeing as how we’ve always had a job to go on, but this time…” she sighed and shrugged. “This time I couldn’t resist. Besides, you two aren’t on a job. You were just heading back to Bobby’s. It wasn’t like I was messing up a hunt.” She smiled sheepishly at her owner’s and Bobby who was scowling dangerously.

“What do you mean, ‘he’? Who came to you Baby?” Bobby’s voice was a low growl in the still air of the motel room and she flushed. 

“Who? Uh…it was…” she said slowly, her eyes darting around the room nervously. “It was-“

“Balthazar,” snarled a voice from near the bathroom. 

Everyone in the room jumped and turned to see a furious Cas prowl across the room towards the dark haired girl. “You made a deal with Balthazar,” he said as he bore down on her. 

Baby only grinned, her sense of danger decidedly lacking in the face of her favorite angel. “Cas!” she said brightly as he slid to a stop in front of her. To the surprise of everyone in the room she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she whispered into the soft canvas of his trench coat. “You smell like hamburgers,” she said as he pried her arms away from his chest and set her firmly away from him. “Why do you and Dean always smell like hamburgers?” Her nose wrinkled in Dean’s direction. She ignored the shocked expressions on all of the men’s faces. “Can I have a hamburger? I really love the smell of them; sometimes the grease from the rafters gets left behind and I can smell them for ages after that. I’ve always thought they’d be delicious.” 

Her voice trailed away thoughtfully and Cas turned to confront the Winchester’s and Bobby. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said quietly. “It was difficult to find the one who caused this debacle.” 

“But you found him? You found Balthazar?” Sam said excitedly. 

“Should have known it would be that feathered asshole,” Dean growled as he resumed dismantling his gun. “Bitch.”

Bobby only sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Balls. I have a feeling this is not going to end well,” he grumbled. 

Cas sighed and sat at the table they surrounded. “No, it did not go as I planned,” he said quietly. His iridescent blue eyes watched as the humanized vehicle ate pizza and drank another beer. “Balthazar granted the vehicle a wish to maintain a human form for two days. He bastardized our Father’s natural order for the sake of a vehicle with slightly more personality than most inanimate objects should have. It’s very…Balthazar of him.” 

Sam raised his hand, a frown on his face, “So wait, she’s stuck like this for the next,” he glanced at his watch. “Twelve hours? But, why?!” 

Baby spoke up from the bed, “It’s the deal we made. I can’t stay human for longer than that because then I’ll be stuck and you’ll be stuck which really wouldn’t improve Dean’s attitude in all honesty. But if I get turned back sooner than that then I won’t…” she hesitated, her silver eyes flashing to Castiel whose own were shadowed with knowledge and she shivered. “Well, if I get turned back earlier than that then the angel broke his promise and he’ll owe a favor to an ‘inanimate object’. I don’t think he’d like that.” She smiled wryly, ignoring Sam’s wince at her air quotes around inanimate object and she shrugged. “Don’t worry boys, you won’t have to deal with me like this for very long.” 

Then she stood, shoved her feet into the slightly too big pair of flats Bobby had gotten her and made her way to the motel door. Sam stood and caught her arm as she passed by him. “Where are you going?” he asked, his eyes wide with horror at the thought of their car wandering around without them. 

She smiled sadly and shook free of his arm. “It seems like my time is running out and while I love watching Dean making love with his big-boy guns, I think I want to get out of this dump and see what Nebraska has to offer me for the next twelve hours. I always thought it was really pretty when we drove through in the past.” And then she slid out of the door. 

Sam’s mouth opened to protest her leaving but Dean stopped him. “She has a point Sammy. Since we can’t do anything to change this and she’s obviously not some trick of Crowley’s, how about we let her have some fun?” 

Sam and Bobby only stared at him as he pulled on his coat, shoved his gun in the back of his pants and then rushed out of the motel after his errant car. Bobby shrugged, grabbed his own coat and said, “What the hell right? Besides, knowing you idjits, you’ll lose her and then you’ll really be screwed.” And he left the motel as well. 

Sam stared at the door before turning to Cas who was staring at the ceiling with a small frown on his face. “Uh, Cas, you going to come with us?” 

The angel lowered his head and met Sam’s eyes. “No, I must return to my brother’s and sister’s. Your car will be returned to you in a few hours Sam Winchester.” 

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head at the angel and before Cas vanished he held his hand out and said, “Thank you Cas, for helping us out again.” 

Cas glanced at the proffered hand and rose; placing his firmly in Sam’s he met his worried gaze and said, “Anything for the Winchesters.” And then with a faint flutter of wings, he was gone. 

Sam stood, his hand suspended absurdly in midair for a moment and tried to ignore the feeling of unease he had at the memory of Cas’s shadowed eyes. Then, with a sigh, he grabbed his coat and wallet from the couch and made for the door. With one last glance at the seat Cas had sat in he left the room and climbed into Bobby’s Mustang and together they made their way into the downtown of the tiny prairie town they’d stopped at.

**

“Oh no,” Sam groaned as Baby jumped up and down at his side giggling. “Come on guys, no way!” 

“Please, please, please Sam?” she begged as she gripped his hand tightly. “I always wanted to go here! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?!” 

Sam glanced from her to his evilly grinning brother and groaned again. “Dean, come on. You know I hate these places!” 

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Sammy, we won’t let the clowns hurt you. Much.” And then he headed for the brightly painted door of North Platte’s branch Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie. Baby skipped after him, her straight black hair swinging as she bobbed, chattering, behind Dean.

Bobby clapped his shoulder on Sam’s shoulder and smiled into his beard. “Come on Sam. It’ll be fine. We’ll keep an eye out for killer clowns,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not helping Bobby,” Sam grumbled as his hand tightened around the butt of his gun. “So not helping,” he muttered to himself as the door swung opened and a Plucky clown poked his head out and beckoned them in. 

Then with a put-upon sigh, he headed into his own personal hell. 

Baby, on the other-hand, was in heaven. She’d always longed to see this place first hand and as she stood in the doorway of the playhouse she couldn’t help but laugh. This whole thing was so ridiculous, but it was absolutely perfect at the same time. 

She wished it didn’t have to end. 

She shook her head and rushed after Dean and Bobby who were heading for the concession stand sitting in the corner of the brightly colored room. All around were children and bored parents or babysitters and Baby couldn’t help grinning. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said as she arrived at the concession stand. He shoved a plate bearing a greasy cheeseburger and multitude of fries into one hand and a Coke in the other. “Thought you might want to try that cheeseburger before you hit the ball pit.” 

She grinned happily at him and stretched up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks Dean!” she said. “Cheeseburgers are even better than hamburgers!”

“Damn straight,” he said as he settled next to her with his own plate. Bobby only rolled his eyes and made his way to the arcade with its multitude of duck kill games. 

She shouted after him, “Don’t think you can get out of this Bobby Singer! I’m coming after you as soon as I finish clogging my arteries!” 

Both she and Dean snickered at his muttered “Balls” and when she took a giant bite of her burger Dean asked, “So, will that do something to you when you, you know, go back to normal? I’m not going to have replace your hoses again am I?” 

She shrugged as she took a sip of her Coke. “No idea. I’m not exactly an authority on this sort of thing. I was thinking maybe you or Sam could tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” Sam asked as he folded himself into the slightly too small green chair across from where she sat. 

Both she and Dean wrinkled their noses at the salad he had in front of him but he ignored them as he took a bite. 

“Uh, Dean’s wondering if my eating a bunch of greasy food is going to have any negative effects on my combustion once I’m back on the road,” she said around a mouthful of cow. 

Sam hesitated, a small frown on his face as he considered the potential problem and then he shrugged, saying, “Huh, never even thought of that. Well, I guess we’ll find out.” 

“Yeah,” she said slowly as her eyes caught sight of something she’d always longed to see in her lifetime. “Boys,” she hissed as she leaned towards them over her half-eaten burger. “Can I get a picture with Plucky?”

Sam froze, his eyes widening with horror as the clown approached them but before he could protest, Baby and Dean had him by the arm and were hauling him towards the manically grinning clown who walked around the establishment with his Polaroid bearing handler. 

“Plucky!” Dean bellowed as he wrestled Sam in the clown’s direction. “Picture time buddy!” 

Baby dropped Sam’s arm and pelted across the bright foam tiled floor in the direction of the arcade and within moments she returned with a grumbling Bobby in tow. “Come on Bobby!” she squealed in excitement as they arrived next to the bewildered clown and handler. “Just one picture!” 

“All right, all right you idjit, I’m coming,” grumbled the older man as she swung his arm. His eyes were sparkling despite his bluster and as he wrapped his arm around the giggling girl he couldn’t help an overwhelming sense of love, similar to what he bore the squirming boys at his side, for the tiny girl. 

The handler gazed at the three men and pretty little girl and wondered briefly if she should call the cops, but then she shrugged and told them to hold still. Her shift was ending in five minutes, all she had to do was one more picture and then she was free to go. 

“Okay you guys! On three I want to hear you say ‘Plucky’s’ as loud as you can! Here we go, 1 elephant-2 unicorns aaaaaand, 3-PLUCKY’S!”

“Plucky’s!” screamed Baby as loud as she could, a huge grin on her face as she hugged her arms around Dean and Sam’s waists. Dean’s grin mirrored her own, Sam only cringed as the clown ruffled his hair and Bobby smirked into his beard. None of the men said “Plucky’s.” 

The camera flashed and within seconds the picture slid from the Polaroid. “There you go, you guys,” said the handler, a smile on her face as the pretty girl in the AC/DC shirt danced over towards her and took the picture. “You and your dad’s have fun honey,” she said. 

Baby grinned and nodded, “Thanks, will do ma’am! They’ve got me for six hours so I’ll be sure to keep them busy! Tell your clown he’s cute!” And then she rushed away leaving a slightly puzzled handler and a very stoned clown behind. 

She found Dean at the skee ball section of the game room. A pile of tickets sat at his feet and she knelt to run her fingers through the bright neon green slips of paper. “What are these for?” she asked curiously as he scored another 100 points and the machine spit out several more rounds of tickets. 

Dean’s eyebrows rose and he threw his last ball which landed in a 50. “This, sweetheart, is a skee ball machine. It gives you magic tickets every time you score points which allows you to go to the magical prize booth so you can pick a magical prize. Capice?” 

She eyed the tickets and then straightened, a huge grin on her face. “So what can you get with those?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement. 

Dean considered the pile and then handed her a handful of clown-faced tokens, saying, “Bupkiss, sweetheart. Absolute bupkiss. So get throwing.” 

She laughed as the brass coins clattered in her palm and then executed a cocky little salute. “Got it chief!” she crowed as she made her way to another skee ball machine. “You take that one. I’ll take this one.” She glanced at him and then smirked as she rolled her first bowl and scored a 100. “Bet I can beat you Dean Winchester.” 

He only laughed and pointed a finger in her direction. “Oh it is on sweetheart. It is ON!” 

Her laugh wove perfectly with the chipper dings of the machines as she and Dean settled into ticket winning rhythms. 

Sam watched her thoughtfully from across the room, his eyes thoughtful as he watched her and Dean heckling each other. He jumped when Bobby settled beside him, a handful of coloring pages and a pack of crayons in his hands. “Shut up,” Bobby grumbled as Sam laughed in disbelief. “Couldn’t resist a coloring page in my life.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said as he settled back in his chair. His eyes darted around the room as he kept an eye on the clowns creeping around the place. “What are we doing Bobby?” he muttered. 

The older man glanced at him and shrugged. “Last I heard, giving your car a day to remember,” he said as he sketched a flower in bright green crayon. 

Sam laughed softly and rubbed his face. T minutes later a victorious Dean and Baby arrived and dropped a pile of loot on Bobby’s careful sketches. “Now that was awesome!” she crowed as she played with her Plucky bobble head. “I totally beat Dean by the way Sam!” she said as she stuck her fingers in the Chinese finger trap she’d won for three tickets. 

Dean snorted and pointed his cheapo lightsaber in her direction. “Think again young jedi,” he growled as she stuck her tongue out at him and tried to pull her fingers free from the trap. Sam reached over and freed her so she could grab her own lightsaber. 

Before she could take out any of their eyes Bobby reached out and snatched both plastic toys from Dean and Baby. “Enough, you idjits! You’ll take my eye out. Go play in the ball pit or something.” 

Baby eyed the ball pit from across the room and then snatched Sam’s hand. “Come on Sammy, your turn!” she shouted as she tugged him towards the play pen. 

“Wait, no! No I’m too big Baby!” Sam groaned as she shoved him up the steps. 

She only snorted and kicked her shoes off. “No you’re not,” she said as she pushed him through the entrance. “Get in there.” 

 

Sam’s arms wheeled as he teetered and then he smiled and dove, the shrieks of the three kids playing amongst the rainbow balls loud in his ears. He surfaced a moment later to see Baby being chased by a little boy, her laughter bright and contagious in the pit. She latched onto his back to escape the little boy and he chuckled before turning to the kids. “Any of you punks know how to play Marco Polo?” 

Dean glanced up from his second plate of fries at the sound of an insane game of Marco Polo started from the ball pit. 

He turned to Bobby who was drawing another picture. “What are we-“

“If you ask, ‘what we’re doing’, idjit, I’ll deck you myself,” growled the older man as he bent closer to his drawing. 

“Duly noted,” muttered Dean as he began playing with the paddle board he’d won. He glanced occasionally at the pit, a small smile on his lips as he watched Dean and Baby duck the three or four midgets scrambling through the balls. “You know, I never knew my car would be so cute,” he mused as the little rubber ball whacked the board he bounced. 

Bobby glanced up and nodded. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? If she was always like that.” 

“Huh,” Dean huffed as the tiny elastic cord snapped and his ball flew through the air to smack the back of a Plucky clown’s head. He waved sheepishly at the glaring clown and shuddered before turning back to Bobby. “Clowns,” he grumbled.

“If it bleeds, you can kill it,” Bobby muttered with a smirk. “So your car, what’s next on the docket? Where do we take her next? She’s got about six hours left before her carriage turns back into a pumpkin.” 

Dean grabbed a coloring sheet and a black crayon and bent over his coloring sheet titled, “Your Favorite Person,” and began drawing. “I was uh, thinking about taking her to a big kid’s play park tonight. Night on the town, you know.” He glanced up at his mentor, a small smile on his lips and Bobby sighed. 

“Can she handle that Dean?” he asked worriedly. “I mean, she’s a car not a co-ed.” 

Dean waved his worries away with a snort. “Did you see her down three beers back at the motel? I think she’ll be okay,” he said with a smirk. 

When a breathless Sam arrived, Baby draped over his back in a fireman’s carry Dean rose and clapped his hands together. “Okay kids, on to the next thing!”

“Steak?” Baby asked, her voice muffled from here her cheek rested against the small of Sam’s back. “Can we have steak next?” 

Dean glanced at Sam and then clapped his hand lightly on her calf. “Sure thing kid. Nice and rare, just the way it should be. So let’s go.” 

And with that they left Plucky’s. 

When Sam set her down next to Bobby’s Mustang she glanced over her shoulder to the brightly painted play house and sighed. “That was so much fun. Thank you boys.” 

Sam hugged her shoulder and placed her bobble head Plucky in the palm of her hand. “Souvenir,” he said with a small smile. 

“Thanks Sam,” she murmured, her eyes downcast as she stroked the clown’s neon green hair. He started to get in the back seat of the car but she caught hold of his hand, stopping him. “Sammy?” she asked quietly. 

“Yeah Baby?” he murmured, his brow furrowed and his eyes worried. 

She swallowed and placed the clown back in his hands, ignoring his wince. “Can you…Can you keep this and put it on the dash when I…you know?” Her silver eyes begged him and he hesitated before nodding. 

“Yeah, yeah I can do that for you Baby,” he murmured, his hand rising to stroke away a tear leaking from her eye. 

“Thanks Sammy,” she whispered, her voice choked. 

“No problem,” he said as she climbed into the car. He tried to keep his unease at bay but he couldn’t help wondering just what kind of deal their Dad’s Impala had made with Balthazar. 

Somehow he didn’t think it was as cut-and-dry as she and Cas were letting on.

Then, with a sigh, he slid into the backseat next to her, pocketing her bobblehead clown as he did. 

They peeled out of Plucky’s parking lot a moment later and made their way downtown to the only bar in town.

**

Only an hour left. How had one day gone so fast? How had five hours gone so fast? She could kind of understand why Balthazar had warned her that near the end of her day she’d be longing for more time. It was sort of unfair. 

How…human of her.

She snorted as she hauled herself onto the hood of Bobby’s Mustang parked in the spot she’d occupied last night. 

“Lovely spot,” she murmured as she glanced at Dean who was sitting against the swooped nose of the battered sports car sipping a beer. 

He glanced at her and smiled. “Mm, yeah, Bobby has a sick sense of humor sometimes.” 

“I’ve noticed,” she whispered as she leaned back against the windshield. 

They were quiet for a while, the ticking of time loud in the back of their heads. “I’ve always loved nighttime in the Plains,” Baby murmured suddenly. Dean glanced at her curiously and she smiled. “The sky’s so big and all you can see are the stars. It’s perfect and beautiful and it makes you realize that you’re really just dust in the wind, just passing through with a flash of chrome and a cloud of exhaust fumes to mark your passage.” 

“You’re smart for a car, you know,” he said as he folded his hands behind his head and reclined against the ‘Stang’s windshield. 

She snorted. “Can’t imagine why. Maybe it’s the forty or so years I’ve spent on the road with you idiotic Winchesters.” Her smile flashed at him in the darkness and he couldn’t help chuckling. “Nah,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes all you can do when you’re on the road is think about what your place is in the world. I think you understand that more than you let on Dean.” 

He was quiet, his eyes lit by the stars overhead. “Baby,” he said slowly.

“Mhm?” she murmured, her eyes dreamy as she gazed into the night. 

“How long have you, you know?” He waved his hand as words failed him and she chuckled. 

“Been aware?” she supplied. He nodded and she sighed. “I don’t really remember. I remember your Mom and Dad, remember her haranguing him about not letting a baby ride in my backseat,” she smiled at that. “I remember when he brought you and Sammy home from the hospital.” She sighed and glanced at him. “I remember a lot of it Dean. It’s exhausting.” Her silver eyes drifted from his to once more gaze at the night sky and he frowned. 

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t you be exhausted if you were stuck for forty years? Stuck with no chance of voicing yourself?” 

Her quiet voice washed over him and he sat up slowly. “What deal did you make with Balthazar Baby?” he asked quietly, horror beginning to creep up his spine. 

She smiled sadly and cupped his cheek. “Don’t worry about it Dean. We all make our own choices. Even cars.” She smiled, a ghost of her cheeky grin from earlier and she stroked the back of her fingers over his chin. “You don’t think all of those breakdowns in Terra Nova, New Mexico were supernatural, do you?” 

Dean stared at her, shocked. Her eyes glowed with mirth as she leaned closer to him and he stilled, his eyes widening as she pressed her lips against his. 

“Wow, that’s uh, just. Wow, Baby,” Dean sputtered as she pulled away with a small smile on her lips. “Can’t say I haven’t ever wondered what that would be like,” he continued as she folded her arms over her chest. He frowned and glanced at her, “Why’d you do that?” 

She shrugged, her small smile still in place and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m here to experience humanity Dean Winchester. If I didn’t kiss both of you Winchester boys then I wouldn’t have really completed my task, now would I have?” She stretched out a hand stroked his cheek once more, a small frown wrinkling her brow and she murmured thoughtfully, “Thank you Dean. For everything.” 

He laughed uncomfortably and waved his hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it sweetheart. Today was a lot of fun, no skin off of my chin.” 

She was shaking her head. “No, not just for today Dean. Thank you for everything; for fixing me and caring for me. For keeping me when Sam disappeared. For keeping me when John disappeared. It…you…” her voice cracked and she sniffed as tears slid from her eyes. “Just thanks,” she whispered as Dean sat up to look at her. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” he said, his brow wrinkled as he saw how distraught she was. “Stop it! You’re my car, my Baby! How could I not take care of you? I’m pretty sure Dad would crawl out of whatever pit he’s in to wring my neck myself if I ever got rid of you!” He dragged her into his arms as her tears increased and he rubbed his hands briskly up and down her back. “Hey, stop it. You’re my Baby girl and I will always take care of you,” he crooned as her fingers locked into his shirt. 

“Promise me Dean, promise me that you and Sam won’t let me rust in some back lot when you get tired of hunting. Promise me that you won’t give me up.” Her eyes were wide as she spoke and she couldn’t help shivering as she imagined her shiny chrome spotting into rust or her sleek black paint Dean had reapplied so carefully after that demon had smashed into her side rippling from moisture. It was her worst nightmare, getting forgotten. Of being left behind when her boys finally gave up their way of life. 

She’d had a taste of it when Dean went to Lisa. She didn’t think she could deal with an entire meal. 

Which was why she’d made the deal with Balthazar of course. 

Dean pulled back from her arms and cupped her chin, his eyes dark with concern as he studied her tear stained face. “Hey, sweetheart, stop it. You know I promise. I will never forget you. I’ll never leave you behind. Okay?” 

His voice was fierce and she sniffed before forcing a shaky smile on her lips and nodding. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. Thank you.” 

“No problem,” he whispered back, his eyes bright with tears. 

It was so quiet, the sound of Balthazar clapping was like thunder rolling across the Plains. 

“Well, this is very touching,” smirked the smarmy angel as he stopped in front of the Mustang where the two still sat wrapped in each other’s arms. “Object sexuality at its finest, eh Dino? How lovely.” 

Baby was stiff in Dean’s arms, her eyes wide as she stared at the angel who had come to her in Lisa’s garage time-and-again. “Hello Balthazar,” she said quietly, her voice tight with emotion. 

“Hello sweetheart,” he said with a smile. “Have a lovely ball? Did your Prince Charming dance with you?” His blue eyes landed on a pale Dean who was trying to think of a way to kill an angel that didn’t involve a blade. “Oh! You’re thinking of breaking my deal with this lovely little V8 are you Dean? I wouldn’t if I were you.” He tsked and shook his finger slowly in the troublesome human’s direction.

Dean glanced at Baby who had slid out of his arms to stand before the angel. “Deal? What deal? What did you promise him Baby?” he asked, white-hot fury in his voice. 

She glanced at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, “The usual. I swore, when he came back to return me to all-fours, that you and Sammy wouldn’t hurt him.” 

“Yes!” he said as he turned back to the darling muscle car’s owner. “I needed to have some insurance in this whole endeavor and considering your brother’s propensity for extra-crispy angel wings I thought I would take up that part of my bargain with your Baby.” He smiled tenderly at her, his lips pulled back a little too far over his too-white teeth and she shuddered as she thought of some of the ghosts who had sat in her backseat. 

“Well,” he said as he clapped his hands together. “Shall we get down to business? The clock is about to strike twelve and Cinderella needs to return to her home ere her evil step-mother returns. Shall we my dear?” 

He stretched out his fingers for her to take but before she could place her hand in his Dean leaned through the driver’s side window of the Mustang and pressed on the horn. The door of his and Sam’s room was thrown open before he even laid off and Sam and Bobby spilled through the door to run across the parking lot to where the three of them stood. 

“What’s-what’s going on?” Sam panted as he took in Balthazar and Baby. He straightened slowly, his face grim as he realized the implications of what the presence of his least favorite angel meant for their car. “Hello Balthazar,” he ground out. 

The angel only rolled his eyes and grumbled, “All right, now that the entire clan is here, can we get down to business?” He wiggled his fingers but she ignored him, turning instead to wrap her arms around Bobby and plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Thank you Bobby,” she whispered in his ear. “For taking care of my boys. Keep an eye on them, all right?” She smiled as he gripped her hands but before he could say anything she turned to Sam. “Oh Sam,” she whispered as he bent to wrap his arms around her. “Remember your promise okay?” He nodded against her cheek and she kissed him gently. “Thanks for being my first kiss, Sammy.” 

“Any time Baby,” he muttered as she moved from him to Dean. 

They gazed at each other for a moment and then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. All of the men in their little circle stared at them and Balthazar smirked as Dean lowered her slowly. 

“Well,” the angel said with a roll of his eyes. “That may require some very interesting therapy sessions in the near future.” 

“Bye Dean,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Eat a cheeseburger for me.” 

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, his voice husky with emotion. “I’ll uh, do that for you Baby.” 

She smiled at all of them, twiddled her fingers and then clapped her hand to Balthazar’s. “Okay, angel-boy. Let’s get those tires on the tarmac again shall we?”

“My dear, it will be my genuine pleasure,” he murmured and she laughed softly as white light rippled over her arm and shrouded her slender figure. 

Dean, Sam and Bobby covered their eyes as the light intensified and Dean swore that Baby’s laughter changed from bright girlish giggles to the familiar rumble of the Impala going through a gear-change. 

Then, as the light faded, there was a deep bellow of a horn and all of the men gasped as they opened their eyes to see the shiny black paint of John Winchester’s ’67 Chevy Impala glinting under the stars. 

“Well,” Balthazar said cheerfully as he dusted off his hands. “What a lovely day this has been. Now boys, I really must dash. Happy trails!” 

With a greasy flutter of wings he was gone. For several long moments it was quiet as all three men gazed at the silent Impala and then Dean sighed. “Son of a bitch, what a day.”  
He stroked the car’s hood gently and they were about to head back to the motel room when there was a faint flutter of wings and Cas appeared at their sides. “The vehicle has been returned to its natural form I see,” he said mildly, ignoring the chorus of “hers.” He glanced from each Winchester to Bobby, a small frown on his brow. “Then it told you of its deal? Interesting. I would think you both would be much more emotional than this.” 

The brothers were silent for a second and then each choked out, “Deal?!”

“What deal?” Dean snarled, his fingers resting on the hood of his Baby.

Cas glanced from one to the other and shifted uncomfortably. “It was the second part of the deal your vehicle’s subconscious struck with Balthazar, I believe,” he said. At the thunderous looks on his friend’s faces he hurried to continue. “Apparently, part of its deal was that the moment he sent it back to its vehicular state, he’d snap its stream of conscious so that it would lose its awareness.” 

His eyes were dark as he took in the Winchester’s horror and shock before sighing. “I’m sorry,” he said wearily. “I thought it…she, would tell you. I see that I was wrong and I apologize. I will see what I can do to fix this with Balthazar.” 

The only sound of his departure was the soft beat of wings. 

The men were silent, the brother’s eyes locked on the shiny chrome of their Dad’s car and Bobby’s eyes were closed as he tried keep his tears at bay. 

“Balls,” he muttered. 

“Son of a bitch,” swore Dean, his fist thudding heavily on the hood of the Impala. “Baby,” he groaned. 

Sam was quiet, his eyes dark with understanding. 

**

Terra Nova, New Mexico  
One week later

“Son of a bitch! Really? You impossible car! You’re going to break down the moment we cross town lines? You are such a piece of shit sometimes!” Dean’s angry mutters were loud in the suddenly silent Impala and Sam shot him a worried glance. 

“Are we sure it’s not something supernatural about this town?” he asked quietly. “I mean, every time we even get close to Terra Nova, the car breaks down.” 

Dean sighed as they drifted to the side of the road and he glanced at the Plucky bobble head on the dashboard. We all make our own choices. Even cars, she’d said. “Yeah, it’s got to be something spooky about the place,” he growled as he swung out of the door to pop the hood. 

Sam sighed, glanced at the still Plucky bobble head sitting above a picture of the brother’s, Bobby, a dour clown, and a pretty girl with dark hair and bright smiling silver eyes before sliding out of the car as well to help his brother. 

With the hood up, neither noticed the bobble head’s neon haired head start to bob giddily up and down. Then soft laughter chimed through the static of the radio as the dial spun towards a classic rock station and both brothers froze as Carry on My Wayward Son started to play. 

Without warning the Impala’s engine roared to life and the only thing Dean could say as he stared at the spinning belt was, “Son of a bitch.” 

“Hello baby.” 

She honked the horn once as they climbed into her front seat and then without another word, they made their way into Terra Nova. 

Just another hunt. Just another day. 

Two brothers and their Dad’s slightly supernatural ’67 black Chevy Impala.


End file.
